This is not new,
you realize
This wrenching
This tearing
Of black babies
Of brown children
The least of these
From parents
From homes
From lives.
Foundational
Rotten
Atrophying foundation.
We tore them from
their land
We wrenched them
from their homes
Forced migration
Brought them here
to slave away
Where we tore them
apart again
The least of these.
Foundational
This tearing
Built upon
This wrenching
At the expense of
This destroying.
And again and
still, we did it
To Native children
Indigenous families
Off to boarding “schools”
Too often to their
deaths
More often to their
destruction
The least of these.
Historic
Lather, rinse,
repeat
Again
Still.
Legalized injustices
By those manufacturing
laws
Fabricating ascendancy
Drawing lines
Building empire
Claiming righteousness
Negating humanity.
And then again and
still, we did it
At war
Perceived enemies
within
Internment camps
Again
Concentration camps,
by another name
Again
Prisoners of war
camps
Again
Reservations
Still.
All foundational
All historic
Always evil
Always wrong
Still evil
Still wrong
This wrenching
This tearing
This destroying
This traumatizing
This empire-building
This humanity-ignoring.
And in His name
They know Him not
Not this way
Religion without
relationship
Evidence abounds
Pharisees
Hypocrites
In denial and deceit.
But when did we . .
. ?!
Innocently
But when did we . .
. ?!
Mockingly
But when did we . .
. ?!
Blindly
Historically
Again and still
Foundationally
Again and still
Presently
Again
Still
He’s not there, you see
In the tearing
In the wrenching
In the line-drawing
In the empire
In the inhumanity.
He is with the torn
He is with wrenched
He is in the camps
He is with them
The least of these
Historically
Again and still
Foundationally
Again and still
Presently
Again
Still
